


Tales from the Red Book

by Eledhwen



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Characters - Family Dynamics, Characters - Outstanding OC(s), Fourth Age, General, Plot - Bittersweet, Plot - Good pacing, Plot - Joy, Subjects - Legends/Myth/History, Writing - Engaging style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eledhwen/pseuds/Eledhwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bedtime stories from the Red Book of Westmarch, telling of Merry and Pippin, the visit of Elessar to the Shire, and the Fell Winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The King's Visit

Author’s note: In book 9 of the ‘History of Middle Earth’ series, ‘Sauron  
Defeated’, edited by Christopher Tolkien, there are the first drafts of a  
projected epilogue to ‘The Lord of the Rings’. In this Sam Gamgee reads out  
a letter from King Elessar giving news of his impending visit to the Shire.  
This is the story of that visit.

 

 

It was summer in the Shire. Long hot days were followed by balmy evenings.  
The green grass and colourful blooms of the countryside were mirrored in  
the perfection of the gardens, and in no garden were the flowers more  
beautiful than the large, sloping expanse behind the comfortable hole  
inhabited by Samwise Fairbairn and his family.

The Fairbairns were sitting in their garden after supper, the remains  
spread on a rug around them. Daffodil was making daisy chains for her  
younger sisters, and Hamfast was gleefully breaking them as fast as she  
could attach the delicate flowers together.

Presently Sam rolled over and sat up, lifting on to his knees the giant red  
book which formed all the best story-telling evenings at Fairbairn Towers.

“I thought we’d have a summery one today,” he said. “Elessar’s visit to the  
Shire.”

Marigold clapped her hands in excitement.

“Ooh, ooh!” she exclaimed. “My favourite!”

Sam smiled indulgently at his daughter, and opened the book.

“‘It was 1436,’” he began. “‘In the garden at Bag End the mallorn tree was  
blooming. Inside, the hole was a hive of activity. The Gamgees were going  
to see the King.

‘Elanor, dressed in a pretty new dress, was having her hair carefully  
brushed by her mother, and in a cradle nearby the baby, Primrose, was  
sleeping soundly surrounded by new lace-edged blankets. Sam Gamgee was  
running around the house making sure that they had all the things they  
needed. In the hall his grey elven-cloak was hung up, waiting to be put on.

‘There came a sudden loud and cheerful knock at the green door, and Frodo-  
lad ran to answer it.

‘“Are the Gamgees ready?” asked Peregrin Took, bowing at Frodo. His small  
son Faramir ran into the hallway, jumping up and down in excitement. Frodo  
held open the door.

‘“Nearly, Mr Took,” he replied. “Dad!”

‘Sam hurried into the hallway.

‘“Mr Pippin!” he exclaimed, giving the newcomer a hug. “Rose! Rosie, it’s  
time to leave.”

‘Into the hall the Gamgees came running – Elanor, and little Rose, Merry  
and Pippin, Goldilocks, Hamfast toddling after his sisters and brothers,  
and finally Mistress Rose carrying Daisy and Primrose.

‘“We’re off to see the King!” shouted Merry.

‘With much bustling around, the Gamgees and their luggage were piled into  
the decorated cart parked outside Bag End. Pippin Took climbed on to the  
driver’s seat next to his best friend Meriadoc Brandybuck, and off they  
went.

‘Like Sam, Merry and Pippin were dressed in their grey elven-cloaks,  
covering smart liveries; Merry’s green and white, representing the kingdom  
of Rohan, and Pippin’s sable and silver, for Gondor. As the cart bounced  
along the East Road, the older hobbits told tales of their travels for the  
children, and sang songs in loud and clear voices. Along the route other  
hobbits appeared at their doors and waved and cheered on the cart and the  
hobbits in their finery, and the Gamgee children and little Faramir Took  
waved back.

‘As they drew nearer to the Brandywine Bridge, where the King and Queen  
would arrive, the excitement grew. Rose passed around the hairbrush and  
made sure all her children were smart. Elanor made certain of the number of  
courtesies she would have to make, but did not dare to stand up in the cart  
and practise, for fear of soiling her new dress. Sam seemed to grow quieter  
as their destination got close.

‘Shortly after three in the afternoon, Merry Brandybuck stopped the cart on  
the far side of the bridge, and set the ponies to grazing. Already some  
outriders and servants of the King had arrived, and tents were set up on  
the green grass, decorated with flowers and the black standard of Gondor,  
showing the White Tree surmounted by a crown and surrounded by seven stars.  
Under a canopy two thrones were set, made of some simple grey wood, but  
high and carved with many beautiful symbols. The children silenced at the  
sight of the splendour, and sat quietly on the rug Merry laid out for them.

‘Pippin Took went off to talk to one of the tall Men who were guarding the  
tents, and presently waved Merry and Sam over.

‘“Remember Bergil?” he said. “Ran errands in the Houses of Healing when we  
were in Minas Tirith?”

‘“A long time since, Master Peregrin,” the Man said gravely, stooping to  
greet Merry and Sam. “Yet I declare you have not changed in the slightest.”

‘“How’s your father?” Pippin asked.

‘“Well, I thank you. He sends his regards.” Bergil smiled fondly. “By  
rights I should be in the guard of Ithilien under his command, but by the  
grace of the Lord Elessar I am here so I could see old friends.”

‘“Good old Strider,” Merry said. “Always looking out for others.”

‘At that moment there came the sound of many trumpets calling, and the  
trumpets of the camp answered.

‘“There comes the royal party,” Bergil said.

‘The company that the hobbits could see coming up the East Road was large  
and great. First came more Guards in black, riding upon many horses, and  
some carrying the standard of the King. Behind them rode a party of maidens  
in white and silver. Next rode the King and Queen on tall grey steeds, both  
clad in white. Upon the Queen’s head was a circlet of silver, and on the  
King’s a great green stone reflected the light. As they watched, the King  
raised his hand in greeting, and spurred his horse on past the foreguard,  
bringing it skilfully to a halt in front of the three hobbits waiting for  
him. He threw the reins to a Guard and swung down off the horse.

‘“Dear friends!” he said, and bent to kiss each one in turn on both cheeks.

‘Sam, feeling his family’s gaze on him, blushed red.

‘“Welcome to the Shire, your Majesty,” he said.

‘The King laughed, and gave Sam’s shoulder a pat.

‘“None of that, Sam. We’re all friends here. Call me Strider, as in the old  
days.”

‘Sam blushed harder, and Pippin took over.

‘“They’ve put up your thrones over here,” he said, leading the way. “How’s  
everyone in Minas Tirith?”

‘“Well, I am glad to say,” the King answered, sitting down on his throne  
with a sigh and stretching his legs out. “Legolas and Gimli are hard at  
work rebuilding and planting still. You must ride out and visit.”

‘He looked up, beyond the hobbits, and quickly stood, holding out his hand.

‘“My Lady,” he said, “welcome to the Shire.”

‘They turned, and as one bowed to the Queen Arwen as she came across the  
grass with diamonds sparkling in her black tresses. The King smiled as  
their eyes met, and he took her hand and settled her into her seat before  
sitting again beside her.’”

“Was the Lady Arwen truly beautiful?” broke in Daffodil.

“I heard tell she was the most beautiful Elven-lady ever, after Lúthien  
Tinúviel,” her father said, one finger on the page. “And Elves are the most  
beautiful of all people.”

“Then I want to be an Elf!” cried Marigold.

“You’re beautiful to me, Mari,” said Sam. “Can I carry on? No more  
questions?” He smiled generally at his family and started to read again.

“‘Sam felt a tugging at his sleeve.

‘“Dad,” came a small voice. “Dad, can we do our bows and courtesies yet?”

‘Sam looked down at Elanor, who stood twisting her skirt in her fingers. He  
patted her head.

‘“All right, Ellie,” he said. “Come on.”

‘He took her hand and brought her before the King and Queen.

‘“Mr Strider, sir,” he said. “My eldest daughter, Elanor.”

‘Elanor carefully curtsied, and then turned towards the Queen and curtsied  
again. Arwen laughed in delight, her voice like music.

‘“My dear Master Samwise,” she said. “Your daughter is beautiful.”

‘“Golden hair like her nameflower,” Elessar added, smiling at Sam who  
beamed in pride.

‘“That was Mr Frodo’s idea, sir,” Sam explained. “I wanted a flower name,  
see, like her mother, and something that would remind me of our travels as  
well, and he remembered the flower in Lórien. And she’s as beautiful as her  
name.”

‘“The sun flower,” the Queen said, looking towards her King. “A perfect  
name.” She bent to Elanor. “Would you like to become one of my handmaidens,  
my sweet, and help me whilst I am here?”

‘Elanor’s eyes opened wide, and she nearly fell over in her haste to do  
another courtesy.

‘“Why – that is – well, yes, your Majesty – my Lady … oh!”

‘Arwen smiled and held out her hand.

‘“Then sit by me here whilst your father introduces the rest of his family  
to us.”’

Sam Fairbairn turned the crisp page, smiling at his own family who sat  
entranced. He blew a greenfly off the page and carried on.

“‘Samwise brought Rose and the children across and one by one they all made  
their courtesies or bows to the King and Queen, and Elessar and Arwen said  
kind words to each. Sam glowed with joy in his family, and beside him  
Meriadoc and Peregrin grinned at each other, enjoying their friend’s  
pleasure.

‘When all had been introduced, servants brought out trestle tables and laid  
them with food and drink, and the King and his guests sat and ate until  
even the hobbits were full. Then the children went off to play, and  
Elessar, Sam, Merry and Pippin lit pipes and began to reminisce about the  
War of the Ring. Arwen took Rose aside and showed her the gifts of jewels  
and rich fabrics the royal party had brought, and then they fell into  
discussion about various small things.

‘Towards dusk more food was brought out, and they ate by the light of  
lanterns lit by the servants and guards. By now a group of hobbits had  
gathered to stare at the splendour, and the King moved about to speak to  
them. As the sun finally set he held up his hand for silence.

‘“I have come here today,” he said, in a voice that carried and stopped  
even the smallest children from talking, “to make good the promise I made  
after I was crowned. From now until my line fades, the lands west of the  
Baranduin and fifty miles south and north of the Great East Road shall be  
the habitation of the Halflings, and no man shall without my leave enter  
within the boundaries. The land shall be governed by the Mayor of the  
Shire, the Thain in Tuckborough, and the Master of Buckland, and this land  
shall thus be secure and safe from trouble. As in times before the Rangers  
will guard the boundaries in my name. This I swear, on this day June the  
15th, 3036, in the Fourth Age of Arda.”

‘Elessar gestured to one of his servants, who hurried up with a small box.

‘“In recognition of his services to Middle-earth both now and in the past,”  
the King continued, “I give now the Star of the Dunédain to Master Samwise  
Gamgee.”

‘Rose gave Sam a little push, and blushing furiously he came forward to  
Elessar, who bent and kissed his old friend on both cheeks and pinned a  
small, perfect silver star to his cloak.

‘“Now, Sam,” the King said softly, “I believe the people of the Shire are  
waiting?”

‘Sam nodded.

‘“You’re quite right, Mr Strider, sir,” he replied, and turned to the  
hobbits. “As Mayor of the Shire, I hear the words of the King and promise  
to serve him as long as my office stands.”

‘“Hear, hear!” shouted Merry and Pippin loudly. “Three cheers for the  
King!” They led the assembled crowd in a rousing shout. “And three cheers  
for the Lady Arwen!” added Pippin, to which the crowd responded even  
louder. Arwen curtsied with a smile. Someone in the group got out a set of  
pipes and started to play, and soon everyone was dancing.

‘They slept that night under the stars and woke late to a hearty breakfast,  
and after they had eaten the King and Queen said farewell to their friends  
and mounted their horses to continue on their tour of the Northern Lands.  
The hobbits climbed into the cart, their clothes slightly stained, the  
children subdued after the splendour and riches, and rode home.’”

Samwise closed the big red book with a sigh.

“And that, children, was the King’s visit to the Shire. And he kept his  
promise, for you know none of the Big People have ever been inside the  
borders since that day.”

Daffodil sighed happily.

“I love that story. I wish the King would come here now so we could see  
him.”

“It’s a long way from Minas Tirith,” her father said, patting his  
daughter’s hand. “And the King isn’t Elessar anymore.”

“I know that,” Daffodil said. “But all the same … imagine the jewels and  
things!” Her eyes sparkled.

Hamfast picked up a handful of grass and threw it at his sisters.

“Anyone for a game of ball?” He jumped up and soon, squealing, the other  
children joined him. Sam moved to sit next to Jasmine, putting an arm  
around her shoulders, and together they watched their children play in the  
bright sunshine, the Red Book by their side.


	2. The King's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedtime stories from the Red Book of Westmarch, telling of Merry and Pippin, the visit of Elessar to the Shire, and the Fell Winter.

It was winter. Outside Fairbairn Towers the snow was falling thick and  
fast, laying down a gentle white carpet on the green hills. Inside, the  
hall was hung with fresh-smelling garlands of holly and mistletoe, and the  
rooms were filled with the appetising smell of baking and roasting.

In the warm and cosy sitting room Samwise Fairbairn sat with his four  
children and his wife Jasmine. They had just finished a raucous game of  
pick-up-sticks, which Hamfast had won with great delight, and now Daffodil,  
the eldest, was helping her mother wind wool whilst the others were  
clamouring for a story from their father. Samwise let himself be jumped  
upon by his littlest son Rolo before agreeing, with more eagerness than he  
showed to his children.

He put Rolo down and stood up to get the large red book which was a family  
heirloom. It had first been the property of the famous hobbit Bilbo  
Baggins, who had kept a record of his adventures with dwarves, dragons and  
gold in the Third Age; and Bilbo had passed it on to his heir Frodo the  
Nine-Fingered, who in turn had given it to his faithful servant, friend and  
inheritor Samwise Gamgee before leaving Middle-earth for the West - but  
that, of course, was just a myth upheld by the Fairbairns. Most inhabitants  
of the Shire believed firmly that Bilbo and Frodo had ‘disappeared’ again,  
as was their wont, and gone away to die in some far-off land. Now the  
Fairbairns, descendants of Samwise Gamgee’s eldest and fairest daughter  
Elanor, kept the huge volume safe and passed on its contents to their  
children. The young hobbits loved the many and varied tales contained  
within the covers, from the riddle-game Bilbo played with the slimy Gollum,  
to the description of the battle fought by Gandalf the wizard with the  
Balrog in Moria, or the pomp of the crowning of King Elessar. They had  
heard them all before and never tired of asking for repeats.

Now Samwise opened the book, fingering the yellowing parchment gently.

“I thought we’d have some history today,” he said. “As it’s coming up to  
Yule, what do you say to the tale of the Fell Winter?”

“Yes please!” yelled Hamfast, jumping up and down enthusiastically.

“It’s scary,” murmured Marigold, cuddling up to her father’s legs.

“If you’re scared, Mari, don’t listen,” said their mother. “Don’t frighten  
them, Sam,” she added.

“It’s not scary!” laughed Samwise. “Are we all happy?” He riffled through  
the pages and found the place where the story of the Fell Winter began.

“‘The snow began early that year. The first flakes fell from the sky in  
late Halimath, just after Bilbo Baggins’s twenty-first birthday, and by the  
end of Winterfilth the grass and fields were ankle-deep. The young hobbits  
loved the snow, and every day spent all afternoon playing snow-fights and  
building snow-hobbits. But the farmers cursed the early winter, as their  
harvests rotted in the velvety blanket and the animals froze to death in  
the fields.

‘The big families began laying in provisions. The Tooks and Brandybucks  
gathered the clans together in their holes, and in Hobbiton, the larger  
holes such as Bag End -’”

“I’ve been there!” shouted Hamfast, waving his hand in the air.

“So have we all,” Samwise said, his finger on the page. “But no  
interruptions, Hammy, remember?” He coughed and carried on. “‘The larger  
holes such as Bag End were used as communal shelters for the old and the  
young. And the snow kept falling. Now the Bywater Pool was frozen over and  
everyone made skates and went skating in the evenings. It got colder and  
colder and soon the weather was too bad for skating. The hobbits closed  
their windows and piled on the firewood. Yule was quiet and the hobbits sat  
indoors and watched the paths block up and the eaves of their holes become  
heavy with the white snow.

‘Still the winter would have been manageable had it not been for the  
ultimate disaster, particularly from the prospect of the Brandybucks. They  
had always believed strongly that they were protected from the fears that  
were in the outside world (things like the Big People, and Elves, and  
general unknown but undoubtedly present dangers) by the presence of the  
deep and fast-flowing Brandywine on the edge of their borders. Nothing had  
ever crossed the Brandywine without leave, and the Brandybucks believed  
nothing ever would. They were wrong.’”

Daffodil shivered deliciously, winding green wool assiduously. She knew the  
story, of course, but it never failed to excite her. She watched her father  
as he turned the page with care.

“‘One night, just after Yule, young Adalgrim Took, who had been visiting  
his aunt Mirabella in Brandy Hall with messages and provisions from the  
Smials, went outside to see if the snow looked like letting up. He was  
anxious to get home to his family. He wandered a few metres, walking along  
the pathway of shallower snow kept clean by the Brandybucks, staring up at  
the sky, when he heard a noise. It sounded like an animal. Adalgrim  
swallowed and turned to go back inside the warmth of the Hall, glancing  
around him as he did so. He could see nothing.

‘He was five metres from the door when it happened. Adalgrim was knocked  
over from behind by something large, wet, and furry, which snarled and  
grunted as he sought for a grip on his winter clothes. Adalgrim screamed  
-’”

Hamfast, his eyes wide, obligingly did the sound effect for the benefit of  
his family, and screamed loudly. Jasmine winced, but smiled as she did so.

“‘- and called for help. He fought with the thing on top of him, thrashing  
his legs and arms. Soon, alerted by his cries, several Brandybucks came out  
of the Hall armed with sticks and clubs, and together they fought the  
animal off and hurried Adalgrim back inside to see to his wounds. He had  
been bitten in several places, and as the Brandybucks bandaged the injuries  
they discussed what could have attacked Adalgrim. The victim himself  
maintained that the creature was a large wolf.

‘“Probably a werewolf,” he whispered, eyes wide. “Come to haunt the Shire.”

‘“Werewolves don’t exist,” his aunt Mirabella said firmly. “Do be sensible,  
Addy.”

‘“All right, then, it was a wolf,” Adalgrim said. “A big one. White. Wasn’t  
it?” he asked his rescuers. They nodded.

‘“Aye,” Orgulas Brandybuck, his aunt’s brother-in-law, agreed. “A gurt  
big’un, too. And I’d lay a bet that it isn’t alone. Where there’s one  
there’ll be another.”

‘“They must have come over the river. The Brandywine must have frozen,”  
said Gorbadoc, the Master of Brandy Hall. “What does everyone suggest?  
Raising the Shire?”

‘“The Tooks will want to help,” asserted Adalgrim. “We have enough weapons  
stashed away in the Smials for all of us and half of you too. Blow the Horn-  
Call, uncle. Alert everyone. We can fight them off. And we should go and  
break the ice on the river, make sure that no more can come across.”

‘“I agree with that,” said Mirabella, gathering up the things she had used  
to tend to Adalgrim. “We want no more children being hurt. Give the call,  
dear. Raise the Shire.”’”

Samwise turned another page, glancing around at his children. Daffodil had  
stopped pretending to wind wool and was listening with her whole attention.  
Even Jasmine was putting more than half her mind to the story. Samwise  
looked back at the book and continued.

“‘So Gorbadoc Brandybuck went to his study and carefully, reverently,  
lifted down the horn from the wall where it had hung from time out of mind,  
waiting for the Brandybuck’s need. Then he gathered together a group of  
stout hobbits, armed with sticks and bows, and went out into the cold.

‘The hobbits had wrapped up warmly but still their noses tingled with the  
chill, and their feet, wrapped up against custom, felt strangely numb.  
Gorbadoc climbed the hill above Brandy Hall, raised the horn to his lips,  
and blew.

Awake! Awake! Fear, Fire Foes! Awake! Fire, Foes! Awake!

‘The Horn-Call of Buckland rang out through the still, frosty air. It  
carried for miles in the silence of the snows, and hobbits in their warm  
holes sat up, opened windows and doors, dressed warmly and clutching home-  
made weapons, set out for Brandy Hall. All evening they came, in twos and  
threes at first, and later in larger groups. Mirabella gave them mulled  
wine and cake and they waited, dozing fitfully in corners all over the  
Hall. By six in the morning it seemed that nobody else would arrive. Most  
of Buckland had come, and several hobbits from the area around, and a few  
others. Gorbadoc gathered them all together in the Great Hall and began to  
explain, when there was a knock on the door.

‘Gorbadoc sent Adalgrim to answer it, and five minutes later he came back,  
proudly leading a large group of twenty or so Tooks headed by the Thain  
himself, old Isengrim. Isengrim was accompanied by several of his brothers,  
nephews and a few nieces. The Tooks settled themselves down at the side of  
the Hall. Gorbadoc began to speak. He explained the situation, and  
Adalgrim, not without a certain degree of pride, displayed his wounds for  
the assembly to see. The Tooks bristled with anger. Gorbadoc divided the  
hobbits into groups of ten, giving them each a patch of land to patrol, and  
the army set out.

‘They were out all day. Many people reported sightings of the wolves, and  
two were shot and killed and transported triumphantly back to Brandy Hall.  
But of the large pack that was inevitably out there, not a sign was seen.  
The ice on the river was broken to prevent any more animals crossing.  
Hobbits left at home were told to barricade their doors.

‘The second day of hunting brought success. Gorbadoc’s troupe of  
Brandybucks and Tooks, moving silently in hobbit-fashion through the snow,  
suddenly came across a large group of wolves, perhaps twenty, lying sated  
on the ground. Beside them lay the carcass of a fat pony which they had  
stolen from some stable or other. The snow was stained pink with its  
blood.’”

Marigold made a face.

“That’s disgusting,” she said, as she always did. Hamfast stuck his tongue  
out at her.

“Lovely and red!” he said. She turned away from him.

“Carry on, Dad.”

“‘The Tooks and Brandybucks drew their weapons. They formed a circle around  
the pack of wolves, noiselessly moving down-wind, and then, on Gorbadoc’s  
order, they attacked.

‘The battle was fast and furious. Adalgrim, trying to redeem his efforts  
from the previous night, dealt his blows hard and accurately and he felled  
three wolves quite quickly with stout hits at the head. Around him the  
other hobbits were doing as well, the wolves having only their teeth and  
their size to fend off their enemies. The hobbits, now that they were not  
surprised, had sticks and staves, knives and feet, and they used them well.  
Despite this, three Brandybucks and two Tooks fell under the wolves’ attack  
and when at last the battle ended, over fifteen corpses lay upon the snow.  
The other wolves had fled and were later to die in the freezing water of  
the Brandywine. The hobbits triumphantly cut off some skins and two heads,  
one for Brandy Hall and one for the Smials, and sorrowfully carried their  
fallen comrades home to the Hall for burial.

‘On arrival at Brandy Hall, Mirabella Brandybuck was awaiting them with  
mulled wine and bandages, and a crowd of young hobbits and wives cheered as  
they tramped in. Mirabella ordered their clothes to be taken away and  
washed instantly, and the hobbits sat down in the great hall to tell their  
story to the stay-at-homes, the fire warming their frozen toes.

‘The dead hobbits were buried the next day with pomp and honour. The  
wolves’ heads were stuffed and hung upon the walls. All the hobbits who had  
fought the battles got fur hats and trimmings for their coats. And the  
story of the Fell Winter and the fight with the white wolf pack has  
continued to be passed down in hobbit history, until this day.’”

Samwise shut the book.

“Not too scared? Good. Now, I promised you a story and you got one. You  
promised me you’d all go to bed. Scarper!”

Hamfast jumped up.

“Race you, Mari!”

She squealed, and ran after him along the hallway. Jasmine picked up little  
Rolo and followed her children. Daffodil lingered in the warm sitting room.

“Did that really happen, Dad?”

“Yes, my love, it did. Come on, I meant bed for you as well. I’ll let you  
choose the next story.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, bed!”

Daffodil bent over and gave her father a kiss on the cheek.

“Night, Dad.”

“Night, Daffodil.”

Samwise watched her go, and then stood up to put the book away. He touched  
its red cover gently, as if to bid the great heirloom goodnight also, and  
then went away to find his family. Outside the closed curtains, the snow  
kept on falling. It was to be a beautiful winter.


	3. Meriadoc and Peregrin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedtime stories from the Red Book of Westmarch, telling of Merry and Pippin, the visit of Elessar to the Shire, and the Fell Winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

“Well, children,” said Samwise Fairbairn, settling himself down in front of  
the fire, “would you like a bedtime story?”

“Something from the Red Book!” said five-year old Rolo, jumping up and down  
in his excitement.

“Naturally something from the Red Book,” his father said, lifting the heavy  
volume onto his knees. “But which bit?”

“The King and Queen visiting the borders?” asked Daffodil, at fifteen  
feeling herself a little above bedtime stories but wanting to listen  
anyway.

“Frodo and Sam in the spider’s lair!” suggested her younger brother  
Hamfast. “Please, Dad, we haven’t had that part for ages. I like Sam best,  
Dad. You were named after him, weren’t you?”

“Yes, Hammy, I was,” said Sam.

“I want Lórien,” said Marigold, twisting her hair-ribbon between her  
fingers. “The Mirror.”

“How about a new bit?” their father said, flicking through the yellowing  
pages to the back of the book. “Have I ever told you about Meriadoc and  
Peregrin’s last ride?”

“Perhaps once,” Daffodil said, thoughtfully, “when I was very little.”

“I never heard it!” shouted Rolo.

Sam smiled and put Rolo on the seat next to him.

“So, Meriadoc and Peregrin’s last ride it is.” He cleared his throat. “‘In  
the year 1484 of the Shire-Reckoning, a messenger arrived at the Buckland  
Gate, his clothes stained from long travel, bearing a scroll with the green  
and white arms of Rohan on the seal. He brought summons from King Éomer for  
Meriadoc Brandybuck, the King being desirous to see his sword-thain before  
his death, which he knew was imminent. Master Meriadoc and Thain Peregrin  
took counsel together and in the late Spring they both handed over their  
homes and offices to their sons, Sadoc Brandybuck and Faramir Took,’ (whose  
wife was your great-great-grandmother’s sister, children), ‘and they rode  
off together from Buckland, over the Sarn Ford and on to the North-South  
Road upon which they kept through the Gap of Rohan. Many people saw them as  
they passed and saluted these two heroes of legend, dressed in the liveries  
of Rohan and Gondor as was their habit. As Autumn was drawing into its  
fullness they arrived in the golden hall of Meduseld, in Edoras in Rohan.  
King Éomer was in the twilight of his days, but he had a son, Elfwine,  
called the Fair, who was the apple of the king’s eye. The years of battle  
and the free air of Rohan had kept Éomer hale and hearty, but on the  
arrival of Meriadoc and Peregrin the halflings could see that he had not  
long to live. Meriadoc was much grieved, however he hid his sadness so that  
Éomer might enjoy the more his last weeks on Middle-earth, before his soul  
went to the everlasting home of Men. They talked and sang of the Great  
Years, remembering with joy tinged with sadness their friends who had  
passed Over Sea. As the golden leaves of Fangorn Wood were falling from the  
trees, in the late Autumn of 1484, Éomer Éadig, King of Rohan, passed away  
into an endless sleep, and much was the grieving in both Rohan and Gondor  
at the end of the King who many said was the greatest leader of the  
Rohirrim since Eorl the Young first flew the white horse at the Field of  
Celebrant, though his deeds mayhap were not as great as that last of  
Théoden Thengel’s son who fell on the Pelennor Fields. Meriadoc and  
Peregrin remained at Meduseld until the green mound had been raised over  
Éomer’s body, first of the tombs of the Third Line, and until Elfwine the  
Fair had been crowned King. Then they took leave of the household of Edoras  
and rode south again across the plains to Minas Tirith.

‘In the White City the two were acclaimed and greeted with great joy. King  
Elessar and Queen Arwen made free for them fair apartments in the Citadel  
and they had the freedom of the City and lands of Gondor. Elessar sent  
gifts to King Elfwine in recognition of his assumption of the throne of  
Rohan, and also in memory of his friend and companion-in-arms Éomer, and  
great was his sadness at his passing; for Elessar and Éomer had drawn  
swords together on the Pelennor Fields at the liberation of Minas Tirith,  
and since that day had fought many a glorious victory for Gondor and Rohan  
together. Elessar himself had many years yet to live in glory. The  
halflings spent many a day walking and singing on the high walls of the  
City, remembering their youth, and Peregrin pointed out to Meriadoc the  
place where he had seen the Darkness fall on Gondor, and they went together  
to the Houses of Healing and recalled those who had brought Meriadoc back  
to health following the fall of the Nazgûl on the Pelennor Fields. The Men  
of the City delighted in their presence and called them, as of old, the  
Ernil i Pheriannath. Their companions from the War of the Ring, Legolas the  
Elf and Gimli the Dwarf visited Minas Tirith from their dwellings in  
Ithilien and the Glittering Caves of Aglarond and spent several weeks with  
the aging halflings.

‘But halflings, unlike Elves, cannot live forever, and three years after  
Meriadoc and Peregrin had ridden away from the Shire, they died within a  
day of each other. The City mourned them for twenty days and their bodies  
were laid in the Hallows of Rath Dínen by Elessar himself, amongst the  
great of Gondor. Next to the bed of Peregrin was a great empty bed, waiting  
for the long reign of Elessar to end. Elessar and Arwen commanded that  
Meriadoc and Peregrin should be remembered with honour, and thus are they  
still.

‘Elessar laid down his life at last two hundred years after his birth in  
the North, and there do three of the Fellowship of the Ring lie together,  
to be gloried in the history of all Free Peoples until the Sun should fall  
into the Western Seas at the end of Time.’ ” Sam closed the book. “And that  
was the last riding of Meriadoc and Peregrin, children. Now, bed!” He put  
the book on the shelf where it belonged and carefully picked up Rolo,  
sleeping on the sofa next to him. “You can have another story tomorrow  
night.”


End file.
